


Answering Life Questions

by Twinklette



Series: The Journal of Nyfiri Featherfoot [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Ashenvale, Astranaar, Camp, Campfire, Desert, Dwarf, Dwarves, F/M, Hunting, Journey, Medic - Freeform, Meditation, Nightmares, Orcs, Stress, Travel, War, aerie peak, ancestral worship, backpacking, forest, hippie, second war, the Barrens, theramore, third war, tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25326022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinklette/pseuds/Twinklette
Summary: A very wet campfire in the forest while a life question or two is answered.
Series: The Journal of Nyfiri Featherfoot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1834366





	Answering Life Questions

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fun little side project for a Character I love, just gonna add to it as I write and can post.

A pile of wood sat next to a barely crackling fire, drying out. Nyfiri sat in her already damp pants on the way too damp ground with her cheek resting in her palm. The moisture difference between Ashenvale and the Barrens was obvious, but she'd hope the towering canopies of foliage would at least keep some wood nearby dry. Of course, it didn't. The woods were soaked and she had already spent the majority of her evening looking for sticks dry enough to burn, let alone hunt for dinner. 

She was exhausted. The heat did horrible things to her body, stripping her of precious energy and drying her skin to the point of splitting and bleeding. She opened her bag as the wetness of the fire popped and sizzled and dug out her salve. She'd been alternating between bare feet and boots for nearly 2 weeks now and the forest floor was a painful relief for her sore pads. Her feet had canyon cracks that opened to raw skin, the desert having (once again) not agreed with her.

She found her thoughts drifting back home as she massaged the slick, oily substance into her heel. She missed the cool breeze of the mountains, the scent carried in from the sea, her waterfall... Her eyes closed and she found herself sitting beside a tall waterfall, cross-legged as the morning sun caressed her features, lighting the strong curve of her jaw and high angles of her cheekbones. It was one of her favorite mornings she'd spent there, meditating for what felt like minutes yet turned into hours. She always found herself coming back to this memory when reality was less than favorable. It was a place of serenity that no one could ever take from her, a way to always calm herself. She felt her heartbeat steady out and the tension left her body, silently thanking herself for the training she'd done. It was a valuable tool to be able to calm yourself in any situation, but she supposed being a medic helped that immensely; there was no time for emotion when it came to saving someone's life.

Her stomach growled violently and interrupted her thoughts, reminding of her own life that she could swear was starting to hang in the balance. The Barrens had not been kind to her efforts of gathering food and water, often leaving her with the small amount of sustenance that came from roots and bugs. On a lucky day she might catch a reptile. Snake had never been her favorite but this journey was panning out to be the most difficult she had made since she set foot in Kalimdor and she was not going to turn down protein. Overall this was the hungriest she had been in a long time. Her normal route had been disrupted by a trio of Orcs and she found herself cursing her choice to pass on weapon training with her brothers. She'd had the advantage from the shadows and could use that to take one out with her spear, but she was not the most confident in her ability one on one with the beasts, let alone two on one. One detour, an already occupied cave, and a bad case of heat stroke later, and here she was. Starving, dehydrated, miserable, and... happy?

She capped the salve and jammed it back in her bag, fingers brushing a piece of parchment as she remembered her reason for the journey. 

_'He needs help. They all do.'_

A smile gently tugged at the corner of her lips as she remembered the letter left for her so many months ago.

_I just wanted you to know I'll be thinking of you. Stay in Theramore, be safe._

She'd obeyed... for a few days. Sitting still when someone told her to was never Nyfiri's strong point. Especially when it came to Orcs. The second and third wars haunted her still, sometimes waking in screams while other nights in a panicked sweat. She had seen what those monsters were capable of. And now that they were on the move again he expected her to stay still? He clearly didn't know her.

_'Uh, yeah. Maybe because he doesn't know you?'_

She frowned at her own thoughts, launching into a full blown argument with her inner narrative.

_'Well he kiiind of knows me.'_

_'Oh yes, because a few nights at the tavern and tea on night watch makes you two peas in a pod, Nyf.'_

_'Okay, brain. Point made. But still. Did he really think I was going to sit still and not follow him?'_

_'It's not like he knows what you do. Or did. Still do? What are you even doing with your life?'_

She rolled her eyes at the internal argument.

_'Is it really the time to be questioning that? Besides, I'm here. Obviously I can't shake the call of duty otherwise I'd be back in the tavern cozy.'_

The reply that came from her own mind had another voice accompany it, one deeper and gravely, sounding aged.

_'There is never a bad time to answer a life question.'_

She smiled softly as her Grandfather's words filtered through her mind. He had been right, and she hated herself for using those words against herself, as she knew exactly what was coming.

_'So, care to answer why you're really going to help?'_

She frowned, knowing it wasn't just the attacks from the Orcs pulling her to Ashenvale. In the short time she'd been in Theramore, she found herself missing home.

_'Ahh, there it is.'_

She told herself to shut up but could not deny it. She was chasing the one little piece of home she'd found on the strange continent. The one being she found herself fall into comfortable silences with. The one Dwarf she'd hauled upstairs after he'd passed out from admittedly a very small amount of alcohol. Her cheeks warmed, remembering how she'd slept in the store room that night, forfeiting her bed to the unconscious friend she'd made. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't considered crawling in next to him. They were both adults and it's not like she was naked... Her thoughts flittered back to the feel of his side against hers as she hauled him upstairs. His firm forearm under her hand, his rigid back muscles under her arm.

Her face grew hot enough to rival the fire in front of her, the wood having dried out enough to produce a solid flame, and she wracked her brain for something- no, anything else to think about.

_'Those feet.'_

She shuddered. Aye, that was great way to kill fuzzy feelings. It wasn't her own feet she was concerned about, but rather the... condition... her friend suffered from. She had been disgustingly interested when she saw what looked like green cottage cheese growing between his toes, but her interest grew even more grotesque as she inspected the infection? Disease? She didn't know what it was. But she had taken the time while he was unconscious to try and heal it, only to find out the ointment she used had absolutely no effect. Her interest grew to fascination as she became obsessed with the problem and vowed she would find _something_ that worked for him. Much to her dismay when she found out he'd left no more than two days before her next concoction was ready to try. She really couldn't wait to-

A rustle by the bushes on the opposite side of her camp immediately caught her attention. She overreacted and instinctively grabbed her bow and arrow and rapidly fired a shot into the bush. The arrow stopped before falling to the ground and came to rest at an angle pointing slightly toward the sky. Bingo. Whatever she hit, it had mass. She cautiously got up and pulled the knife from her boot, reaching for the arrow. She pulled the branches back to reveal a squirrel with an arrow shaft protruding from its side. The creature was still twitching and trembling and Nyfiri winced. She quickly snapped the rodents neck, trying to end its pain as fast as possible. There was no stopping the sigh that escaped her lips as she retrieved her arrow and held the limp, lifeless body in her hands. She hated when it wasn't a clean kill; it wasn't fair to the life being taken.

She tossed a slightly drier stick on the fire and seated herself cross-legged with the squirrel laying across her palms. Her palms began to tingle and grow hot as she closed her eyes and focused on her own energy. In this world, she knew that there was give and take and if one was going to take, then one had to give back. Even if giving back was a thank you, an apology, and a promise to use every bit of the body she had taken from a soul. She took a deep steady breath and she began communing with whoever would be willing to accept her energy, eager that she would have a full belly for the trip to Astranaar in the morning.


End file.
